User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Mossflower Country & Beyond/@comment-2246928-20140724190409/@comment-2246928-20140731144903

A rangy weasel shrugged "Good 'nuff f' me." She leaned down on a javelin, watching the gently swaying trees as they stood strong against the salty breeze. "So when're we...'Eadin' out there?" The fat stoat snorted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world "When the Captain says so, idjit."